They'd be okay
by AnconiaStark
Summary: The fight that Frank and Callie keep having.


Callie Shaw entered her apartment a little earlier than she had intended to tonight. Slamming the door behind her, she plonked herself down on the sofa in her living room, silently fuming. She heard him calling her name, but didn't move, staring stony-faced at the blank television screen in front of her.

"Callie, hear me out, please," she heard his deep voice from behind the door.

She'd helped Frank and Joe out so many times before in their cases, even more so after Iola's death. It was from that day that her mind had become firmly set on investigative journalism, which in her mind exposed the truth, and served as a true form of justice for those who were wronged. She worked hard to reach the position that she had in her career as an investigative journalist. She knew the risks and she was always careful with whatever work she had done. She had even taken self-defence classes to prepare herself for the worst possible scenarios. She sighed, thinking back to his insistence that she should no longer involve herself so actively in their cases. Admittedly, in the last one, she had got herself into inexplicable danger, which landed her in hospital for two weeks. She remained seeing Frank's face when she'd woken up. She remembered the worry, the love, and the guilt written all over his face. The last emotion truly troubled her time and time again. He had no need to feel guilty. _Fool_. His voice brought her back to the present again.

"Callie, I know you don't want to speak to me now, but my love, please, we need to sort this out."

She didn't move from the sofa. He remained silent for a minute and then spoke again.

"Callie, baby, I'll count to ten and if you still don't feel like speaking to me then, I'll leave, I promise."

That was one of the things she loved about Frank. He knew when to give her, her own space. She thought back to the argument. Had she overreacted?

"One,"

Maybe she had. All he said was out of concern and care for her. But, he had to understand that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. She was not as fragile as he thought she was.

"Two,"

It was understandable that she got annoyed. She usually expected talks like that from Joe but not him, never him. He had encouraged her interest in journalism.

"Three,"

She had experience now as well, two years of it as a professional career, in addition to all the times she had helped him on his cases.

"Four,"

She got up turned on the radio, and then poured herself a glass of water.

"Five,"

She heard the soft notes of "You and Me" by Lifehouse float throughout the apartment. It was the song that was playing when he first told her he loved her.

"Six,"

She listened to the words of the song, allowing them to sink in. "Cause it's you and me and all of the people, with nothing to do, nothing to lose. And it's you and me and all of the people. And I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off."

"Seven,"

He really did love her. She remembered the day when she had fallen terribly sick, and was forced to stay in bed all day. He had skipped all of his classes that day to spend the day with her curled up in a blanket on the sofa, watching "The Breakfast Club", and then a whole string of Disney movies, to which he sang along with full enthusiasm. She smiled, remembering his rendition of "The Circle of Life" and "Under the Sea".

"Eight,"

He really was not a good singer, but he had made her laugh, pulling her out of the misery her flu had put her into.

"Nine,"

His voice sounded uncertain now. She had overreacted, she decided.

"Nine and a half,"

She smiled, moving towards the door, and opening it for him.

He looked down at her, a small spreading across his face. "Callie," he began.

She moved away from the door, letting him come in, and the spoke.

"Frank, don't say anything,"

"But, I just want to explain why I don't want you so actively involved anymore," he said, frowning.

"You don't have to. I overreacted. I'm sorry," she replied, looking up at him with her big honey-brown eyes.

He eyed her doubtfully. Callie never admits that she overreacts. She laughed, when she saw the expression on his face. She reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck. He reacted unconsciously, wrapping his arms around her waist, drawing her closer.

"I mean it," she said, smiling up at him.

"Okay," he replied, smiling back down at her.

"Okay," she said softly, and then stood up on her tiptoes, pressing her mouth into his. He returned the kiss fully, and then broke of suddenly.

"Does this mean you won't get yourself too involved in our cases any more?"

"No, of course I'm getting involved," she replied.

He smiled down at her, affectionately, with a tinge of exasperation. He could never win with her.

"Callie, I can't see you lying down like that on a hospital bed, again. Not knowing whether you're going to wake up or not. Those two weeks were the worst two weeks of my life. Seeing you hurt, made me hurt more."

"Now you know how I feel when it's you on that hospital bed," she replied quietly, staring up sadly into his eyes. Her mind quickly remembering every single time Frank had ended up in hospital because of one of his cases. She leaned her forehead against his chest, and he tightened his arms around her. She heard him sigh into her hair.

"Let's not think about any of this, Frank"

"Okay, take out?"

"Sure. Chinese?"

"Sure," he replied, smiling down at her.

Her involvement would always be a problem between them, but she was sure that it would be something they could work through. She curled herself up on the couch and turned on the TV. Her eyes widened in excitement at what she saw. She couldn't believe they were actually airing it.

"Frank, Frank," she called out excitedly jumping up and down on the sofa. "Re-run of Full House."

"What?! I'm coming, wait for me."

They'd be okay. She knew they would.


End file.
